He wondered if he’d ever really had a choice in the matter this second time around. He’d been a goner from the moment he first spotted Lily in the elevator, before he knew who she really was. And then later when she’d invited him inside her apartment and he watched her stand on tiptoe, attempting to reach Tomcat’s food, something soft and warm began to bloom inside of his chest, eroding the years of hardness. The next thing he knew, he was standing right behind her, plucking the cat food from the top of the shelf because he couldn’t bear to see her struggle for even one second.
A stool. She needed a stool. How had she been getting Tomcat’s food down in the weeks since their first night together? He hadn’t even thought to ask. It suddenly became imperative that he find a stool for her. It was almost midnight, but that didn’t matter. Wasn’t he living in the city that never slept? He left his apartment in search of a stool, and he learned that the city did sleep at some point. Because he eventually had to go all the way to Greenpoint, Brooklyn, in order to find a twenty-four-hour hardware store. On the long subway ride back to Manhattan, he realized that Tomcat could probably use something for his digestion to avoid another trip to the ER. As soon as he got off the train he rushed to Duane Reade. It was almost three a.m. now. The only people in the store were drunk New School students congregating in the snack aisle. He went to the pet section and picked out stool softener. Then he grabbed one of those feather-stick toys because maybe Lily had been meaning to buy Tomcat a new toy, but she’d been so busy with work, she just hadn’t found the time.
As Nick stood in line, one of the New School students pointed at him and grinned. Loudly, she whispered to her friends, “How sweet. He’s a cat dad.”
A cat dad? Him? Never in a million years. But as he hustled out of the store, eager to get back to his apartment building and Lily, he realized how he truly must look to them.
He didn’t sleep at all that night. At seven thirty the next morning, he knocked on Lily’s door with his heart in his throat. He hoped she hadn’t left for work yet. He heard her feet pad to the door, then there was a slight pause as she probably looked through the peephole. She opened the door, and she was wearing a pale yellow sundress and a cream-colored cardigan. Her feet were bare, and she still hadn’t put on makeup.
“Hey,” he said, taking in the wary look on her face.
Lily said nothing. Her eyes drifted down to the stool and Duane Reade bag he held in his hands.
“I got these for you,” he said, holding them up toward her. “A stool so that you’ll be able to reach Tomcat’s food since it’s so high up.” He opened the plastic bag and fumbled in his haste to show her the contents. “And stool softener for Tomcat in case he has more issues. And, um, this toy.”
Her brows furrowed, and she blinked. “Okay . . . thanks.”
She took the stool and bag and placed them in the hallway behind her. She turned back to him, and her face was just as closed off as it had been last night.
Nick stared at her, wishing he knew what to do, what to say, so that she could understand. “Lily . . .”
“I have to finish getting ready for work,” she said, her voice hard. Then she looked up at him, and he saw a bit of emotion peek through her remote veneer. “You can’t just come here with gifts, thinking that’s going to change everything.” She stepped back and started to close the door.
“Wait.” Nick’s hand shot out, holding the door open. She frowned at him. “I know it won’t change things. What I did was fucked up, I know that. I hate myself for it. I hate that I hurt you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say that, but I will say it as many times as I need to. What can I do to make you believe me? I’ll do anything.”
She shook her head and looked away. “I don’t know, Nick. I just don’t know.”
His heart thrashed in his chest at her words.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. Slowly, as if he were approaching a wounded animal, he stepped closer to her. The wary look in her eyes returned but she didn’t back away. That gave him hope.
“I won’t lie to you again,” he said quietly. “I swear on my life.”
When she still hadn’t moved away from him, Nick gently pulled her into his arms and held her close. “You mean too much to me,” he whispered. His lips softly grazed the top of her head. “I’m sorry, Lily.”
She breathed against him, deep and slow. As the seconds ticked by, they inhaled and exhaled in tandem. Nick closed his eyes and felt the erratic energy that had been with him since last night finally begin to lift.